Last Saturday, I attended the 13th Awards Night of the Ghana Journalists Association (GJA). The bonus for attending such an event was that I dressed up and looked gorgeous, fully accessorized with ‘bling bling’. The other bonus was that I met people from my long-distant past, as if I was meeting ghosts.
As a member of the GJA Awards Committee, the event was also to bring closure to the arduous task of selecting the best from the entries received. Against the backdrop of the scandal that characterized the recent insurance awards, I was nervous as I dressed up for the night.
The event was fun. The event was tense. The company was good. The music was good. I’m told the food was also good but I had nothing of substance to eat because I’m a “fishtarian” (I don’t eat meat). There were lengthy speeches which were tiring to listen to.
And, there were awards! First, to those from journalism’s past who held up the banner to set the example for some of us. GJA used this opportunity to say a fitting thank you to our past heroes. Someone once said that ‘Life is just like a tin of sardine. We’re all looking for the key.’ GJA must therefore continue to fish out those former journalists who found ‘the key’ before they step into the dark of the night. What’s the point in waiting until people die so we pour out our tears and means to mourn them? It is better to let them know that we treasure them while they still have breathe.
When one of my mentors, Benjamin Entwi, formerly of the Ghana News Agency and the Highway Authority was called to go up for his honorary award, a few tears dropped from my tender eyes. There was Uncle Ben, in his early 70s, tall and handsome, yet frail, struggling to stay on his feet. He was held up by his wife Margaret as he wobbled up the stage. I was so enveloped in an odd mixture of joy and sorrow. I felt as if I was witnessing the peeling off of a layer of juicy onion. Lesson: this life is not a dress rehearsal.
Before I could pull myself together over Uncle Ben, Harry Mouzalas was called for a posthumous award. There was a creepy absence followed by an equally eerie silence. Harry was my colleague on the Awards Committee. The previous week, he went down-under at Osu. He died as we waited to submit our report. For purely idiotic reasons, his eldest son did not show up to receive the award. So awkwardly, his name was repeated three times before someone clumsily hurried up-stage. Then it hit me – like a candle in the wind, Harry’s light had extinguished – he was really dead. He loved life, completely. He lived, deeply. He wrote, passionately. He danced, like there was no tomorrow. He sang, loving it. He was like a miracle of a flower. But yet, he was gone.
My colleague Alomele won the Best Columnist award. As we exchanged text messages thanking God for his life after his near death experience less than two years ago, I wrote to him, “You deserve this award even more so after recovering from a life-threatening sickness and returning to the profession you love.” He replied: “On my hospital bed, I never dreamt I could ever write again! I wanted to die! Why I didn’t die, I still do not know. This award means a lot to me after my ordeal. We shall celebrate. Thank you, Mom.” My tender heart melted, my eyes wet.
But as is usually the case, at the climax of this year’s event, the audience waited for the announcement. The hall was tense. It was a bit awkward as the Vice President of the GJA prefaced the announcement with a description of the standard of excellence expected of the Journalist of the Year. Then, he dropped the bombshell. The award for the Journalist of the Year goes to …… NO ONE! "Better luck next year,” he said. As if rehearsed, the audience clapped, apparently in suspended disbelief.
Then, instead of the scheduled dance at the end of the event, people quietly headed to the door. With the early departures, I lost the opportunity to dance like there would be no tomorrow. The night was far spent. Old bones must be rested. But the news got out, as it should. Questions, outrage, speculations and theories are still being propounded about why there was no winner.
Must there always be a winner? A no-win situation provides a unique opportunity for soul-searching to fire journalists up, to challenge us to put our house in order and equip us to play a fitting role in the development of Ghana.
Clearly, the GJA has work to do to improve the overall credibility of the awards. The process is crying for review. For instance, the award event receives more publicity, support and excitement than the award processes. Individuals who are uncomfortable with subjecting themselves to peer-review and/or to pursue honours and awards are not likely to submit entries. Such people are therefore automatically excluded for consideration. Since the process does not include sniffing around for good journalists, the choices of award committees are limited to individuals who take the initiative to submit entries. If a select number of people regularly send entries, one ends up recycling the same people year after year. Also, in this modern era, online journalists are excluded from the awards.
Not selecting a Journalist of the Year does not necessarily imply that there are no good journalists in Ghana. There are the good, the bad and the ridiculously ugly categories of journalists. Probably the good constitutes just a few good women and men. But they do exist. Good journalism hasn’t all gone to the dogs. The low-cost journalists may be in our faces too often, constituting a large band of quasi-journalists and journalist sound/look-alikes who parade our national corridors wielding celebrity status.
In the past decade or so, journalism appears to have come of age in Ghana. Everybody and their mamas want to get in, probably for the wrong reason – fame. They forget that journalism is about good writing. An enduring question: is a journalist who is a lousy writer worthy of being called a journalist? You decide. Granted, that the standard of journalism in Ghana has fallen. But it’s undeniable that the mediocrity and corruption in journalism today are only a reflection of the cankers that are eating Ghana up.
What is laughable is that some entries for GJA awards are of such low standard but yet, the individuals confidently submit them for awards anyway. I can’t help but suspect that mothers and grandmothers assure some journalists that they are superb and deserve awards. God bless mothers and grandmothers who find little or nothing wrong with the products of our wombs!
On a serious note, we shouldn’t forget that the awards are about upholding the integrity of a profession that needs to evolve alongside a fledgling democracy. Lessons are being learned along the way. This is only the 37th year of the GJA. Youthfulness is on our side. Our best is yet to come!
+233-208286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Kufuor and Rawlings are poison for December 7 elections
The lyrics of a popular reggae song go something like this: “Ghana politics, it is all about Rawlings and Kufuor.” In the song, the singer describes the HIPC Junction residence of Prez Kufuor, through the Air Port road to the Boom Junction of ex-Prez Rawlings as the key corridor of power in Ghana.
The irony as I see it from my pint-sized vantage point is that the unfortunate key feature of that powerful corridor, that is also ‘The Gateway into Ghana’, is the endless line-up of street children who are mortgaging their future selling made-in-China goods to take care of their current needs. Real politics is like a contact sport, played on the rich privileged side of the divide while the poor and the deprived look on, at best as willing but confused cheer leaders and spectators.
So it is that as Election Day approaches, the voices of former President Jerry John Rawlings and that of current President John Agyekum Kufuor have taken on a certain presence and an unholy loudness on our fragile political horizon. What is troubling is that instead of using their voices to sooth us, to hopefully turn us toward something noble that is greater than ourselves, they are drawing us into rough territories of divisiveness that is only reflective of the anaemic nature of their relationship.
Together, they are concretising an unfortunate political tradition of bad blood between past and present presidents. But worst of all, together, they present a very potent poison for the December 7 elections as the negative energy between them looms over our politics. They are not simply in opposition; they are operating in enemy territories as lose canons. These days, whenever I hear news reports about their pronouncements, I tremble in fear.
From how short I stand, these two men are giants; tall, enormous and glamorous. And they are the two living ‘Fathers’ of our nation, occupying very privileged positions. They own the two mightiest bully pulpits on this soil so therefore whatever they say any-day any-time any-how any-where become big news that take on lives of their own. It is said that to whom much is giving, much is expected. Unfortunately, the quality of their relationship makes a fail grade. What a shame!
But the key problem in their toxic relationship is that the venom spills over to contaminate our already not so clean political waters. The toxicity shows in the regular distasteful cocktails of verbal attacks and counter attacks from the two Johns. An endless string of ‘he said’, ‘he said’ follows in rapid succession, by courtesy of their supporters who join in with further inelegant cocktails of insults to each other. Consistently, the FM stations re-echo the bitterness, hostility and taunting that emanate from these Johns, feeding the NDC-NPP rivalry. Together, they give voice to the negativity that is becoming the characteristic of our politics and provide rich material to hyper-ventilating serial callers, stirring their blood for action.
I wish I could be a fly on the wall to glean into the full story of their relationship history. Clearly, they’ve known each other for a long time. President Kufuor even served in Flt Lt Rawlings’ PNDC administration as the first Secretary of Local Government at the beginning of this country’s decentralization experiment. We ordinary Ghanaians don’t know the full story of what really happened between them, how the deep hatred they appear to have for one another evolved. Yet, they’re drawing us into their funk. That is not fair.
Kufuor and Rawlings behave like an odd couple, estranged and entangled in a bad marriage over private matters. Then they go to town, talking evil about each other to anyone who will listen. I wonder: Did they ever have good times? What was it like between them during the good times? Did they quaff alcohol together? Was it beer, whisky or gin? What conversations did they have? What laughter? What was the nature of their hand shakes – ‘high-fives’ or knuckle cracks?
But now they seem to hate each other like hell – with disgust and distaste. But when two presidents named John fight, it’s the ground that suffers. I’m part of the ground and I’m feeling bruised by the negativity in the rhetoric of Kufuor and Rawlings. I’m tired of both of them. I’m suffering from Rawlings-Kufuor fatigue and irritation. Or, is it just me?
Things that can’t go on forever don’t. The hatred between Kufuor and Rawlings, especially the dangerous spill-overs into our body politic can’t go on forever. It is unhealthy. But I want to wish that if Akuffo-Addo wins, another round of hatred between him and Rawlings will not show its ugly head, and continue to spill off more toxicity into our politics.
Before, during and after Election Day, the two Johns must calm down and put an end to all heated and hateful rhetoric. Preferably, they should not mount party platforms and/or speak to the media until the results have been announced and the dust has settled. Better still, they should keep down the explosive rhetoric until long after the losers have licked their wounds while the winners are ‘managing’ to remember the many promises they made to us as they salivate over Cape Three Points sweet crude oil.
Here is why. The two Johns have mouths that are like guns; no – canons. They behave like two bullies on the block. They muddy our waters. Meanwhile, the elections are NOT about them. They will NOT be on the ballot. Since their pronouncements tend to be divisive, we are better off if they back off the politics of Ghana for the time being.
Rawlings has a reputation for ‘boom’ speeches. Rawlings knows boom. Rawlings talks boom. But on the flip side, I have never liked the utterances of President Kufuor when he mounts NPP platforms. Once he begins to speak in his native language, Ashanti Twi, he freely interlaces his utterances with proverbs that can be interpreted in various ways, depending on who is doing the interpretation. His speeches on those platforms are boom-like, and divisive. What to do? Prez Kufuor should only speak as President of Ghana and leader of us all on national platforms, but NOT on NPP campaign platforms.
So for election 2008, which is not about Rawlings and/or Kufuor who have served their time and are not eligible to ascend to the presidency again, they must stay away from making inflammatory pronouncements. We need them as elder statesmen not as matches to light our fire; not to trigger and unglue us into something unrecognizable.
So on behalf of the youth of Ghana, I send a message from my daughter Darkoa to President Kufuor and ex-President Rawlings: ‘Cool down for Jesus.’ They should exit from the tender centre of Ghanaian politics and stay behind as elder statesmen. If they continue to carry on this same way, they might unintentionally provide ammunitions to some damn broke blood-thirsty angry fellows to push our beloved country towards the nursery rhyme:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
And all the King’s horses, And all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again!
0208286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
The irony as I see it from my pint-sized vantage point is that the unfortunate key feature of that powerful corridor, that is also ‘The Gateway into Ghana’, is the endless line-up of street children who are mortgaging their future selling made-in-China goods to take care of their current needs. Real politics is like a contact sport, played on the rich privileged side of the divide while the poor and the deprived look on, at best as willing but confused cheer leaders and spectators.
So it is that as Election Day approaches, the voices of former President Jerry John Rawlings and that of current President John Agyekum Kufuor have taken on a certain presence and an unholy loudness on our fragile political horizon. What is troubling is that instead of using their voices to sooth us, to hopefully turn us toward something noble that is greater than ourselves, they are drawing us into rough territories of divisiveness that is only reflective of the anaemic nature of their relationship.
Together, they are concretising an unfortunate political tradition of bad blood between past and present presidents. But worst of all, together, they present a very potent poison for the December 7 elections as the negative energy between them looms over our politics. They are not simply in opposition; they are operating in enemy territories as lose canons. These days, whenever I hear news reports about their pronouncements, I tremble in fear.
From how short I stand, these two men are giants; tall, enormous and glamorous. And they are the two living ‘Fathers’ of our nation, occupying very privileged positions. They own the two mightiest bully pulpits on this soil so therefore whatever they say any-day any-time any-how any-where become big news that take on lives of their own. It is said that to whom much is giving, much is expected. Unfortunately, the quality of their relationship makes a fail grade. What a shame!
But the key problem in their toxic relationship is that the venom spills over to contaminate our already not so clean political waters. The toxicity shows in the regular distasteful cocktails of verbal attacks and counter attacks from the two Johns. An endless string of ‘he said’, ‘he said’ follows in rapid succession, by courtesy of their supporters who join in with further inelegant cocktails of insults to each other. Consistently, the FM stations re-echo the bitterness, hostility and taunting that emanate from these Johns, feeding the NDC-NPP rivalry. Together, they give voice to the negativity that is becoming the characteristic of our politics and provide rich material to hyper-ventilating serial callers, stirring their blood for action.
I wish I could be a fly on the wall to glean into the full story of their relationship history. Clearly, they’ve known each other for a long time. President Kufuor even served in Flt Lt Rawlings’ PNDC administration as the first Secretary of Local Government at the beginning of this country’s decentralization experiment. We ordinary Ghanaians don’t know the full story of what really happened between them, how the deep hatred they appear to have for one another evolved. Yet, they’re drawing us into their funk. That is not fair.
Kufuor and Rawlings behave like an odd couple, estranged and entangled in a bad marriage over private matters. Then they go to town, talking evil about each other to anyone who will listen. I wonder: Did they ever have good times? What was it like between them during the good times? Did they quaff alcohol together? Was it beer, whisky or gin? What conversations did they have? What laughter? What was the nature of their hand shakes – ‘high-fives’ or knuckle cracks?
But now they seem to hate each other like hell – with disgust and distaste. But when two presidents named John fight, it’s the ground that suffers. I’m part of the ground and I’m feeling bruised by the negativity in the rhetoric of Kufuor and Rawlings. I’m tired of both of them. I’m suffering from Rawlings-Kufuor fatigue and irritation. Or, is it just me?
Things that can’t go on forever don’t. The hatred between Kufuor and Rawlings, especially the dangerous spill-overs into our body politic can’t go on forever. It is unhealthy. But I want to wish that if Akuffo-Addo wins, another round of hatred between him and Rawlings will not show its ugly head, and continue to spill off more toxicity into our politics.
Before, during and after Election Day, the two Johns must calm down and put an end to all heated and hateful rhetoric. Preferably, they should not mount party platforms and/or speak to the media until the results have been announced and the dust has settled. Better still, they should keep down the explosive rhetoric until long after the losers have licked their wounds while the winners are ‘managing’ to remember the many promises they made to us as they salivate over Cape Three Points sweet crude oil.
Here is why. The two Johns have mouths that are like guns; no – canons. They behave like two bullies on the block. They muddy our waters. Meanwhile, the elections are NOT about them. They will NOT be on the ballot. Since their pronouncements tend to be divisive, we are better off if they back off the politics of Ghana for the time being.
Rawlings has a reputation for ‘boom’ speeches. Rawlings knows boom. Rawlings talks boom. But on the flip side, I have never liked the utterances of President Kufuor when he mounts NPP platforms. Once he begins to speak in his native language, Ashanti Twi, he freely interlaces his utterances with proverbs that can be interpreted in various ways, depending on who is doing the interpretation. His speeches on those platforms are boom-like, and divisive. What to do? Prez Kufuor should only speak as President of Ghana and leader of us all on national platforms, but NOT on NPP campaign platforms.
So for election 2008, which is not about Rawlings and/or Kufuor who have served their time and are not eligible to ascend to the presidency again, they must stay away from making inflammatory pronouncements. We need them as elder statesmen not as matches to light our fire; not to trigger and unglue us into something unrecognizable.
So on behalf of the youth of Ghana, I send a message from my daughter Darkoa to President Kufuor and ex-President Rawlings: ‘Cool down for Jesus.’ They should exit from the tender centre of Ghanaian politics and stay behind as elder statesmen. If they continue to carry on this same way, they might unintentionally provide ammunitions to some damn broke blood-thirsty angry fellows to push our beloved country towards the nursery rhyme:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
And all the King’s horses, And all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again!
0208286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Not washing your hands with soap can hurt you
The World Health Organization says that "Diarrhoea kills two million children every year! The simple hygiene habit of washing hands with soap would cut this number in half." These are the global statistics. It is estimated that 25% of Ghanaian children under age-five die of diarrhoea, a preventable hygiene-related disease. That is bad news.
A community Water and Sanitation Agency source maintains that the rate at which deaths due to diarrhoeal-related diseases occur in Ghana could be reduced by half through effective hand-washing with soap. That is good news.
It is further estimated that 80% of diseases reported at out-patient-departments of our hospitals, like malaria, cholera, worms and diarrhoea, are sanitation-related. If this trend continues, it could jeopardize the sustainability of the National Health Insurance Scheme. That is bad news indeed.
Last Wednesday, October 15 was the first Global Hand-Washing Day. The day was set aside to focus attention on hand-washing with soap as an important hygienic practice and the most cost-effective health intervention. This special day was also aimed at inspiring individual commitment to effective hand-washing habit. Awareness is not enough; actually making hand-washing with soap a second-nature practice is what can result in preventing diseases, and even save lives. Fact: being sick is not like taking a walk in the park!
African germs don’t kill, some say. Fact: African germs do kill. Germs are all over. Fortunately, not all are harmful. Through the simple acts of living, our hands can become contaminated with harmful germs – sneezing, coughing, nose-picking, drooling, hand-shaking, hugging, urinating and eating, as well as touching bodily fluids and other fluids on surfaces (walls, railings, clothes and skin). Our hands – between fingers, in palms and under fingernails – are potential rental spaces for germs to survive and thrive, waiting to enter the mouth to make us ill.
Take faecal matter for example. No one likes to eat faecal matter – either their own or that of others. But unintentionally, we share traces of this stuff, and it can make us ill. There are various ways in which we pick up different kinds of germs.
Having money feels good so when it crosses your path, you touch it gleefully. Imagine where the money has been. Who touched it before you? What was the condition of the hands of that person? Here are some possibilities. The last handler of the money you just held might have been picking his nose with his fore-finger. Nasty!
You buy and eat bread. Take a moment to imagine the personal hygiene of bread handlers. Recently, I saw a boy selling bread near Kasoa. He was holding two loafs packaged in transparent plastics. The disturbing sight was that he was holding the bread in one hand with the other hand free to complete the urinating process – by the roadside, in plain view. Yucky! Who is responsible for protecting us from ourselves in such matters?
Research has shown that computer keyboards harbour numerous germs, probably more than toilet seats. As I write, I’m thinking of the last public computer I used at an Internet café. Could it be that the last user might have visited the toilet to ease himself prior to using the computer; and since there was no toilet paper in sight, he ‘managed’ before stepping out of the ‘little room’?
As I write, I’m sneezing a lot and my nose is running profusely from a cold. Supposing you meet me and gladly shake my hands; imagine the germs you would gladly receive from me, only to share with every person you meet afterwards, including your children.
A difficult area to maintain a sane and hygienic hand-washing habit and keep germs away is in public spaces when nature calls. Nature can be unkind and will call you when you want to be left alone. So how should you handle the critical calls which send you into public toilets? You enter gracefully and strategically, and pray that by the end of the episode, you’ll have your dignity intact.
My personal peeve: bathroom towels! When you enter any office toilet (e.g. a bank, hospital or a government ministry) and find a towel hanging on a rail next to the sink, beckoning you to use it to wipe your hands, please resist the temptation. Stay away, no matter how clean it looks or how desperately you feel the urge to wipe the water from your hands (if there is water!). Those towels are disease-infested and dangerous.
At funerals, remember that you don’t know what the person died of. A lousy trend that is becoming entrenched is that from the cemetery, we proceed to ‘gbonyo parties’ (the feast after the burial). Unfortunately, there are no mass washing of hands. Instead, there is a hurry to feast and dance, completely forgetting the dead. The focus quickly turns onto the living, with unwashed hands.
So what do we do? Awareness and alertness constitute half of the battle won. We can avoid some of these germ-crossover situations through making it a habit to wash our own hands thoroughly with soap and water before touching food.
Since we are all in this together, it is also appropriate to question people who handle things they give to us about their hand-washing habits, especially when they violate our personal hygiene threshold. Take for example the photograph on this page. If you are to have a communal meal with loved ones in our traditional habit of eating from the same bowl, do provide teachable lessons for opportunities for everyone to wash their hands properly with soap. Communities could have a “Veronica Bucket” (also, as seen on this page) for hand-washing.
You cannot tell, by looking at hands that are not visibly dirty if they have been washed hygienically. Unintentionally, we spread germs which, like wicked warriors, can cause diseases, at times leading to fatal outcomes – death. So go ahead, develop a personal policy of no germ sharing – a 'don’t-give and don’t-receive' policy.
233-208286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
A community Water and Sanitation Agency source maintains that the rate at which deaths due to diarrhoeal-related diseases occur in Ghana could be reduced by half through effective hand-washing with soap. That is good news.
It is further estimated that 80% of diseases reported at out-patient-departments of our hospitals, like malaria, cholera, worms and diarrhoea, are sanitation-related. If this trend continues, it could jeopardize the sustainability of the National Health Insurance Scheme. That is bad news indeed.
Last Wednesday, October 15 was the first Global Hand-Washing Day. The day was set aside to focus attention on hand-washing with soap as an important hygienic practice and the most cost-effective health intervention. This special day was also aimed at inspiring individual commitment to effective hand-washing habit. Awareness is not enough; actually making hand-washing with soap a second-nature practice is what can result in preventing diseases, and even save lives. Fact: being sick is not like taking a walk in the park!
African germs don’t kill, some say. Fact: African germs do kill. Germs are all over. Fortunately, not all are harmful. Through the simple acts of living, our hands can become contaminated with harmful germs – sneezing, coughing, nose-picking, drooling, hand-shaking, hugging, urinating and eating, as well as touching bodily fluids and other fluids on surfaces (walls, railings, clothes and skin). Our hands – between fingers, in palms and under fingernails – are potential rental spaces for germs to survive and thrive, waiting to enter the mouth to make us ill.
Take faecal matter for example. No one likes to eat faecal matter – either their own or that of others. But unintentionally, we share traces of this stuff, and it can make us ill. There are various ways in which we pick up different kinds of germs.
Having money feels good so when it crosses your path, you touch it gleefully. Imagine where the money has been. Who touched it before you? What was the condition of the hands of that person? Here are some possibilities. The last handler of the money you just held might have been picking his nose with his fore-finger. Nasty!
You buy and eat bread. Take a moment to imagine the personal hygiene of bread handlers. Recently, I saw a boy selling bread near Kasoa. He was holding two loafs packaged in transparent plastics. The disturbing sight was that he was holding the bread in one hand with the other hand free to complete the urinating process – by the roadside, in plain view. Yucky! Who is responsible for protecting us from ourselves in such matters?
Research has shown that computer keyboards harbour numerous germs, probably more than toilet seats. As I write, I’m thinking of the last public computer I used at an Internet café. Could it be that the last user might have visited the toilet to ease himself prior to using the computer; and since there was no toilet paper in sight, he ‘managed’ before stepping out of the ‘little room’?
As I write, I’m sneezing a lot and my nose is running profusely from a cold. Supposing you meet me and gladly shake my hands; imagine the germs you would gladly receive from me, only to share with every person you meet afterwards, including your children.
A difficult area to maintain a sane and hygienic hand-washing habit and keep germs away is in public spaces when nature calls. Nature can be unkind and will call you when you want to be left alone. So how should you handle the critical calls which send you into public toilets? You enter gracefully and strategically, and pray that by the end of the episode, you’ll have your dignity intact.
My personal peeve: bathroom towels! When you enter any office toilet (e.g. a bank, hospital or a government ministry) and find a towel hanging on a rail next to the sink, beckoning you to use it to wipe your hands, please resist the temptation. Stay away, no matter how clean it looks or how desperately you feel the urge to wipe the water from your hands (if there is water!). Those towels are disease-infested and dangerous.
At funerals, remember that you don’t know what the person died of. A lousy trend that is becoming entrenched is that from the cemetery, we proceed to ‘gbonyo parties’ (the feast after the burial). Unfortunately, there are no mass washing of hands. Instead, there is a hurry to feast and dance, completely forgetting the dead. The focus quickly turns onto the living, with unwashed hands.
So what do we do? Awareness and alertness constitute half of the battle won. We can avoid some of these germ-crossover situations through making it a habit to wash our own hands thoroughly with soap and water before touching food.
Since we are all in this together, it is also appropriate to question people who handle things they give to us about their hand-washing habits, especially when they violate our personal hygiene threshold. Take for example the photograph on this page. If you are to have a communal meal with loved ones in our traditional habit of eating from the same bowl, do provide teachable lessons for opportunities for everyone to wash their hands properly with soap. Communities could have a “Veronica Bucket” (also, as seen on this page) for hand-washing.
You cannot tell, by looking at hands that are not visibly dirty if they have been washed hygienically. Unintentionally, we spread germs which, like wicked warriors, can cause diseases, at times leading to fatal outcomes – death. So go ahead, develop a personal policy of no germ sharing – a 'don’t-give and don’t-receive' policy.
233-208286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Why Did The Chicken Cross the Road?
This column has been so dense for months on end, stepping boldly on toes and gingerly pushing some rusty buttons of society. While remaining concerned about the increasing number of street children, the deplorable state of sanitation, and of prostate cancer and general disease stigma, I reckon that life is short and we can’t forever stress out about the many things we find troubling regarding the realities of our Ghanaian existence. So this week, let’s have some laughs.
My all-time favourite parody is the age-old question: Why did the chicken cross the road? Year after year, whenever I’ve needed some really good earthy hearty laughter, the type that leaves a numbing pain in the rib cage for hours, I’ve returned to this question by revisiting the satirical responses ascribed to certain notable persons throughout history. If you are hungry for laughter, which is good for the soul and health, go online and Google. Simply type the question into that search engine. Then, just sit back, relax, with a glass of water nearby and be ready to laugh yourself to tears and ……
For readers who might not have easy online access, I’ll share a few of such responses below. Note: these jokes make more sense if you know something about the individuals being imitated. Remember, these are responses purely from people’s imagination of how these “Honourables” would have responded to the life-changing question – Why did the chicken cross the road?
KINDERGARTEN TEACHER: To get to the other side.
PLATO: For the greater good.
ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross roads.
HIPPOCRATES: Because of an excess of phlegm in its pancreas.
KARL MARX: To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.
LOUIS FARRAKHAN: The road, you see, represents the Blackman. The chicken ‘crossed’ the Blackman in order to trample over him and keep him down.
MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.
MOSES: And God came down from the Heavens and He said unto the chicken, “Thou shalt cross the road.” And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.
FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
BILL GATES: Our soon-to-be-released Chicken 2008 will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents and balance your checkbook.
BUDDHA: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.
EINSTEIN: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.
GEORGE BUSH: To face a kinder, gentler thousand points of headlights and BOMBS.
SADDAM HUSSEIN: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
The above responses represent a wide variety of brilliant and philosophical, yet dim-witted, simplistic, nonsensical, bizarre, ridiculous and childish answers. So, which of these responses come close to how you would have answered this simple question? For no provocation at all, and probably after very little thinking, each person is apt to answer this question in a certain way and the answer provides a deep-seated explanation to where they are on life’s journey – how they think, what occupies their time and their overall perspective. The question is about chicken – but it’s also about life.
So let’s move on to a funny serious matter. Let’s face it: as a people – me, you and you – are careless road crossers. In the matter of road crossing, you can observe the absurd, bizarre and ludicrous. At one point in time, everyone crosses a road as a pedestrian, for one reason or the other. The critical issue here is not why we cross roads but the way we cross and the accompanying dangers we pose to ourselves, to drivers and to society.
I have identified three broad categories of road crossers. They are the I-Don’t-Cares, the-Bold-and-Determined and the I-Am-Tired-and-Confused.
The I-Don’t-Cares seem to be the most dangerous. They behave as if they are on a suicide mission, waiting for oncoming vehicles to usher them into the next world that is beckoning them so their next of kin would at long last, benefit from their existence, albeit belatedly – from insurance payments. Before laying out their lives at moving vehicles, though, they never stop to think if the vehicle is insured!!
The Bold-and-Determined undoubtedly have a perpetual right-of-way. They exhibit gross disrespect and disgust to vehicles. They boldly charge into vehicles and even hit vehicles with their flesh! They can appear suddenly, and for no particular reason at all, cross – regardless of the speed of the vehicle. I say – some of these crossers should be locked up or be certified. The courts should issue them with certificates to carry on their bodies at all times so they can simply flip it out to on-coming vehicles. But better still, they should be made to carry placards that read – “A nut-case is crossing. Watch out!”
The third category, the I-Am-Tired-and-Confused, is the pathetic case. Some of these are either tired after a hard day’s work or are absent-minded over some issues they face in life’s tough journey and want to cross – for no particular reason. In their tiredness, they are focused yet confused, and their focus breeds carelessness.
Don’t even bother to wonder why these categories of people cross roads. It could be, like Plato, “For the greater good.” Like Aristotle, because it is in the person’s “nature to cross roads.” Like Hippocrates, “Because of an excess of phlegm in the pancreas.” Or, better still, like Karl Marx, “To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.”
The worst time to deal with road crossers is in the dark. It is mind-boggling when you consider the confidence inherent in the carelessness with which small-sized black human beings jump into busy roads in darkness, to cross to the other side, oblivious to the dangers ahead. While a pedestrian sees vehicles in the dark, s/he might not realize that drivers do not see the pedestrian as clearly. Our skin colour easily becomes one with the darkness or at best, we become mere blurry figures.
Why don’t we therefore have a law, or at least encourage the populace to wear reflectors on shoes, hats and shirts whenever we plan to cross roads in the dark? The reflectors would make us visible to drivers of oncoming vehicles and throw light on our little black bodies. Hey, that’s a nice business idea for someone to run with. I’ll forego consulting fees, of course!
The way people cross roads used to upset me. No more! I have developed a heightened sense of humour about it. The fear remains though, that one of these days, I might inadvertently hit someone and be locked up in a funky police cell. But fear is debilitating. It can zap energy. So, to enjoy the madness, I’ve decided to join in a big way and have some fun too. This maddening opportunity is too fascinating to just stay on the sidelines. I too, will become an active participant – to own and operate a tro-tro of the Benz bus kind, which I am determined to drive periodically – just for the fun of it. Watch the road!
dorisdartey@yahoo.com; 233-208286817
My all-time favourite parody is the age-old question: Why did the chicken cross the road? Year after year, whenever I’ve needed some really good earthy hearty laughter, the type that leaves a numbing pain in the rib cage for hours, I’ve returned to this question by revisiting the satirical responses ascribed to certain notable persons throughout history. If you are hungry for laughter, which is good for the soul and health, go online and Google. Simply type the question into that search engine. Then, just sit back, relax, with a glass of water nearby and be ready to laugh yourself to tears and ……
For readers who might not have easy online access, I’ll share a few of such responses below. Note: these jokes make more sense if you know something about the individuals being imitated. Remember, these are responses purely from people’s imagination of how these “Honourables” would have responded to the life-changing question – Why did the chicken cross the road?
KINDERGARTEN TEACHER: To get to the other side.
PLATO: For the greater good.
ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross roads.
HIPPOCRATES: Because of an excess of phlegm in its pancreas.
KARL MARX: To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.
LOUIS FARRAKHAN: The road, you see, represents the Blackman. The chicken ‘crossed’ the Blackman in order to trample over him and keep him down.
MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.
MOSES: And God came down from the Heavens and He said unto the chicken, “Thou shalt cross the road.” And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.
FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
BILL GATES: Our soon-to-be-released Chicken 2008 will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents and balance your checkbook.
BUDDHA: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.
EINSTEIN: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.
GEORGE BUSH: To face a kinder, gentler thousand points of headlights and BOMBS.
SADDAM HUSSEIN: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
The above responses represent a wide variety of brilliant and philosophical, yet dim-witted, simplistic, nonsensical, bizarre, ridiculous and childish answers. So, which of these responses come close to how you would have answered this simple question? For no provocation at all, and probably after very little thinking, each person is apt to answer this question in a certain way and the answer provides a deep-seated explanation to where they are on life’s journey – how they think, what occupies their time and their overall perspective. The question is about chicken – but it’s also about life.
So let’s move on to a funny serious matter. Let’s face it: as a people – me, you and you – are careless road crossers. In the matter of road crossing, you can observe the absurd, bizarre and ludicrous. At one point in time, everyone crosses a road as a pedestrian, for one reason or the other. The critical issue here is not why we cross roads but the way we cross and the accompanying dangers we pose to ourselves, to drivers and to society.
I have identified three broad categories of road crossers. They are the I-Don’t-Cares, the-Bold-and-Determined and the I-Am-Tired-and-Confused.
The I-Don’t-Cares seem to be the most dangerous. They behave as if they are on a suicide mission, waiting for oncoming vehicles to usher them into the next world that is beckoning them so their next of kin would at long last, benefit from their existence, albeit belatedly – from insurance payments. Before laying out their lives at moving vehicles, though, they never stop to think if the vehicle is insured!!
The Bold-and-Determined undoubtedly have a perpetual right-of-way. They exhibit gross disrespect and disgust to vehicles. They boldly charge into vehicles and even hit vehicles with their flesh! They can appear suddenly, and for no particular reason at all, cross – regardless of the speed of the vehicle. I say – some of these crossers should be locked up or be certified. The courts should issue them with certificates to carry on their bodies at all times so they can simply flip it out to on-coming vehicles. But better still, they should be made to carry placards that read – “A nut-case is crossing. Watch out!”
The third category, the I-Am-Tired-and-Confused, is the pathetic case. Some of these are either tired after a hard day’s work or are absent-minded over some issues they face in life’s tough journey and want to cross – for no particular reason. In their tiredness, they are focused yet confused, and their focus breeds carelessness.
Don’t even bother to wonder why these categories of people cross roads. It could be, like Plato, “For the greater good.” Like Aristotle, because it is in the person’s “nature to cross roads.” Like Hippocrates, “Because of an excess of phlegm in the pancreas.” Or, better still, like Karl Marx, “To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.”
The worst time to deal with road crossers is in the dark. It is mind-boggling when you consider the confidence inherent in the carelessness with which small-sized black human beings jump into busy roads in darkness, to cross to the other side, oblivious to the dangers ahead. While a pedestrian sees vehicles in the dark, s/he might not realize that drivers do not see the pedestrian as clearly. Our skin colour easily becomes one with the darkness or at best, we become mere blurry figures.
Why don’t we therefore have a law, or at least encourage the populace to wear reflectors on shoes, hats and shirts whenever we plan to cross roads in the dark? The reflectors would make us visible to drivers of oncoming vehicles and throw light on our little black bodies. Hey, that’s a nice business idea for someone to run with. I’ll forego consulting fees, of course!
The way people cross roads used to upset me. No more! I have developed a heightened sense of humour about it. The fear remains though, that one of these days, I might inadvertently hit someone and be locked up in a funky police cell. But fear is debilitating. It can zap energy. So, to enjoy the madness, I’ve decided to join in a big way and have some fun too. This maddening opportunity is too fascinating to just stay on the sidelines. I too, will become an active participant – to own and operate a tro-tro of the Benz bus kind, which I am determined to drive periodically – just for the fun of it. Watch the road!
dorisdartey@yahoo.com; 233-208286817
BAAH-WEREDU IS DEAD: THREE MATTERS ARISING
Kwadwo Baah-Weredu’s death is looming large over Ghana. A shocker! A caller to a radio talk show aptly described it as Ghana’s equivalence of the death of Princess Diana! Ghana is in mourning.
Baah-Weredu died young, at the peak of his game – and productivity. He was loved across the political divide. He was unspoilt, with an innate ability to behave so ordinary, as if the word pompous was non-existent in his consciousness. Some lesser ministers, politicians and leaders in various fields of endeavour are thickly cloaked in pomposity, making it difficult to relate with them. The pomposity of such characters smells to the highest heavens, causing God to sneeze. (Dear God, please help me to control my itch to name here, some of these overly pompous individuals. Amen!)
Like many Ghanaians, I’m mourning too. With his death, my mortality seems closer now than ever. I suspect that I’m not the only person in Ghana who is feeling this eerie way. When is it my and your turn?
Death is a given; death is a robber. To live is to die. In this society, death is also a flourishing industry, headquartered in Kumasi. So it is that a fluffy-red-carpet funeral roll-out is currently underway. Politicians, economists, traditional leaders, the clergy, and everyone with a name, are pouring out comments about beloved Baah-Weredu. What a loss!
But we shouldn’t aggravate the loss by losing the lessons. There are three things that must be said but are not being said regarding this painful national loss – the matters arising. These are: Ghana’s low life expectancy, disease stigma, and the deplorable state of our health care delivery system.
The first and probably the saddest, frightening and most worrying is that Baah-Weredu died at Ghana’s average life expectancy – age 56. Yes, 56 is the new 70! Fifty six is now really old because life expectancy in Ghana has been decreasing steadily. A 2005 source ranks Ghana 149 in the world, placing only better than 39 African countries – and Afghanistan, Laos and Haiti. That is bad company indeed!
So as we mourn Baah-Weredu, we should pause to mourn ourselves. And while we may be feeling terrified down this increasingly slippery slope into early graves, we must put pressure on our leaders to do whatever it takes to improve our health care delivery system which is a vast hell hole of a death trap.
The second unsaid matter arising is the secrecy surrounding the cause of Baah-Weredu’s death. Lay the nonsensical superstitions to rest; let’s talk medical. The usual stigma about diseases should not be allowed to play out fully to cheat us of an opportunity to learn useful health lessons from his death. What was the health condition for which he travelled to South Africa, accompanied by his ‘personal physician’ Dr. Nyantakyi, and for which a surgical procedure was performed? You might be thinking – it’s none of my business. But, it is!
Unconfirmed reports have it that he died of prostate cancer. Why the hush-hush about the diseases which kill us? If we feel shy to talk openly about prostate cancer because it is located in the scrotum region of men, then we are a national joke with regard to HIV/AIDS which is cloaked in perceptions of sex.
Again, death is a given; to live is to die. But we seem to have difficulty accepting death as a natural part of living. We are therefore too quick to accuse others of people’s death. We parade speculations as fact without blinking. Well-educated and supposedly intelligent people join in these speculations under the guise of super Christian pretentiousness, oblivious to the contradictions.
We must transcend whatever in our culture leads us to be secretive about the cause of death. The diseases by which our privileged, beloved sons and daughters die of could be used for constructive changes in our national disease dialogue and management. The word disease is coined from two words – dis and ease (e.g. dis-respect). A disease therefore is something that takes away your ease, comfort and by extension, joy. When you are ‘eased’ out, you die. It is therefore helpful if you know what is eating away at your ease and to cause you to ‘disease.’
The third matter arising from Baah-Weredu’s death is the grim state of the health care delivery system of fifty-one year old Ghana. It puts us all at risk of being knocked dead for even the most casual of diseases. Our hospitals are veritable death traps waiting with gaping mouths ready to suck in the unsuspecting, the uninitiated. Undoubtedly, since our leaders don’t trust our hospitals, they fly away as medical tourists to places like South Africa out of desperation to save their lives. But no matter how fast they run, they can’t hide from death.
Let’s therefore level the playing fields, no – the living fields, by improving our health care system. It is getting tiring to hear that the privileged of our land travel abroad for medical care. So what happens to Akwasi Opia, a farmer of Kokrobite or wife Evelyn Adobea, a school teacher? They will die early deaths because they can never go to South Africa for life-saving surgeries.
Meanwhile, Ghana has what it takes to become the medical nirvana in this region. Consider the medical ‘brain drain’ this country has endured for decades. My grand-daughter was delivered by a Ghanaian doctor in the USA. Two of the half a dozen or so nurses in attendance were Ghanaians! These are medical professionals trained with our meagre national resources who provide world-class services to the developed world. With such top class human resources, if a government sets its eyes on adequately equipping this country’s medical facilities to make us a medical tourism attraction, the tourists will come with their diseases and pay good money to be treated. And we, the locals, will have access too.
We can bring South Africa to Ghana! Countries like Argentina, Brazil, Costa Rica, India, Malaysia, Mexico, Panama, Turkey, Philippines, Thailand and our continental neighbour – South Africa, where our beloved Baah-Weredu sought for medical treatment, are popular destinations for medical tourists. People from developed countries, head to these destinations to receive quality medical care at much lower costs than at home.
Aljazeera quotes Deloitte LLP, an international consulting firm, as estimating that 750,000 Americans sought for medical treatment abroad in 2007 alone. It is projected that the number could rise to as high as six million by 2010. Ghana could potentially make more money from medical tourism than from the crude oil we are currently drooling over.
If however, our medical system would remain at such deplorable levels, then we might as well provide golden parachutes, oiled lavishly in Cape Three Points sweet crude oil, to ferry every sick Ghanaian to South Africa (accompanied by personal physicians), and maybe, just maybe, die while receiving treatment. Afterwards, we would organize grand funerals to send them off into God’s cushy bosom.
FOOTNOTE: Mrs Margaret Baah-Weredu should step up in mourning clothes to contest her husband’s vacant seat. She will win – to carry on his legacy. This will stop the political vultures scurrying for the seat very cold in their tracks. And by that, increase the number of women in Parliament – by one!
233-8286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
Baah-Weredu died young, at the peak of his game – and productivity. He was loved across the political divide. He was unspoilt, with an innate ability to behave so ordinary, as if the word pompous was non-existent in his consciousness. Some lesser ministers, politicians and leaders in various fields of endeavour are thickly cloaked in pomposity, making it difficult to relate with them. The pomposity of such characters smells to the highest heavens, causing God to sneeze. (Dear God, please help me to control my itch to name here, some of these overly pompous individuals. Amen!)
Like many Ghanaians, I’m mourning too. With his death, my mortality seems closer now than ever. I suspect that I’m not the only person in Ghana who is feeling this eerie way. When is it my and your turn?
Death is a given; death is a robber. To live is to die. In this society, death is also a flourishing industry, headquartered in Kumasi. So it is that a fluffy-red-carpet funeral roll-out is currently underway. Politicians, economists, traditional leaders, the clergy, and everyone with a name, are pouring out comments about beloved Baah-Weredu. What a loss!
But we shouldn’t aggravate the loss by losing the lessons. There are three things that must be said but are not being said regarding this painful national loss – the matters arising. These are: Ghana’s low life expectancy, disease stigma, and the deplorable state of our health care delivery system.
The first and probably the saddest, frightening and most worrying is that Baah-Weredu died at Ghana’s average life expectancy – age 56. Yes, 56 is the new 70! Fifty six is now really old because life expectancy in Ghana has been decreasing steadily. A 2005 source ranks Ghana 149 in the world, placing only better than 39 African countries – and Afghanistan, Laos and Haiti. That is bad company indeed!
So as we mourn Baah-Weredu, we should pause to mourn ourselves. And while we may be feeling terrified down this increasingly slippery slope into early graves, we must put pressure on our leaders to do whatever it takes to improve our health care delivery system which is a vast hell hole of a death trap.
The second unsaid matter arising is the secrecy surrounding the cause of Baah-Weredu’s death. Lay the nonsensical superstitions to rest; let’s talk medical. The usual stigma about diseases should not be allowed to play out fully to cheat us of an opportunity to learn useful health lessons from his death. What was the health condition for which he travelled to South Africa, accompanied by his ‘personal physician’ Dr. Nyantakyi, and for which a surgical procedure was performed? You might be thinking – it’s none of my business. But, it is!
Unconfirmed reports have it that he died of prostate cancer. Why the hush-hush about the diseases which kill us? If we feel shy to talk openly about prostate cancer because it is located in the scrotum region of men, then we are a national joke with regard to HIV/AIDS which is cloaked in perceptions of sex.
Again, death is a given; to live is to die. But we seem to have difficulty accepting death as a natural part of living. We are therefore too quick to accuse others of people’s death. We parade speculations as fact without blinking. Well-educated and supposedly intelligent people join in these speculations under the guise of super Christian pretentiousness, oblivious to the contradictions.
We must transcend whatever in our culture leads us to be secretive about the cause of death. The diseases by which our privileged, beloved sons and daughters die of could be used for constructive changes in our national disease dialogue and management. The word disease is coined from two words – dis and ease (e.g. dis-respect). A disease therefore is something that takes away your ease, comfort and by extension, joy. When you are ‘eased’ out, you die. It is therefore helpful if you know what is eating away at your ease and to cause you to ‘disease.’
The third matter arising from Baah-Weredu’s death is the grim state of the health care delivery system of fifty-one year old Ghana. It puts us all at risk of being knocked dead for even the most casual of diseases. Our hospitals are veritable death traps waiting with gaping mouths ready to suck in the unsuspecting, the uninitiated. Undoubtedly, since our leaders don’t trust our hospitals, they fly away as medical tourists to places like South Africa out of desperation to save their lives. But no matter how fast they run, they can’t hide from death.
Let’s therefore level the playing fields, no – the living fields, by improving our health care system. It is getting tiring to hear that the privileged of our land travel abroad for medical care. So what happens to Akwasi Opia, a farmer of Kokrobite or wife Evelyn Adobea, a school teacher? They will die early deaths because they can never go to South Africa for life-saving surgeries.
Meanwhile, Ghana has what it takes to become the medical nirvana in this region. Consider the medical ‘brain drain’ this country has endured for decades. My grand-daughter was delivered by a Ghanaian doctor in the USA. Two of the half a dozen or so nurses in attendance were Ghanaians! These are medical professionals trained with our meagre national resources who provide world-class services to the developed world. With such top class human resources, if a government sets its eyes on adequately equipping this country’s medical facilities to make us a medical tourism attraction, the tourists will come with their diseases and pay good money to be treated. And we, the locals, will have access too.
We can bring South Africa to Ghana! Countries like Argentina, Brazil, Costa Rica, India, Malaysia, Mexico, Panama, Turkey, Philippines, Thailand and our continental neighbour – South Africa, where our beloved Baah-Weredu sought for medical treatment, are popular destinations for medical tourists. People from developed countries, head to these destinations to receive quality medical care at much lower costs than at home.
Aljazeera quotes Deloitte LLP, an international consulting firm, as estimating that 750,000 Americans sought for medical treatment abroad in 2007 alone. It is projected that the number could rise to as high as six million by 2010. Ghana could potentially make more money from medical tourism than from the crude oil we are currently drooling over.
If however, our medical system would remain at such deplorable levels, then we might as well provide golden parachutes, oiled lavishly in Cape Three Points sweet crude oil, to ferry every sick Ghanaian to South Africa (accompanied by personal physicians), and maybe, just maybe, die while receiving treatment. Afterwards, we would organize grand funerals to send them off into God’s cushy bosom.
FOOTNOTE: Mrs Margaret Baah-Weredu should step up in mourning clothes to contest her husband’s vacant seat. She will win – to carry on his legacy. This will stop the political vultures scurrying for the seat very cold in their tracks. And by that, increase the number of women in Parliament – by one!
233-8286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com
Hand-washing with soap is the most cost-effective health intervention
What are your hand-washing habits? When you visited the ‘loo’ at the bank, did you hurriedly and mindlessly rinse your hands with water and wiped with that towel hanging on the rail next to the sink? Or – the taps were not flowing so you did nothing; you just moved on? Throughout the funeral of your best friend’s father a fortnight ago, you shook hands with several people of suspicious hand-hygiene. Afterwards, how thoroughly did you wash your hands before sinking your pretty fingers into kenkey and fish? You may have engaged in two risky behaviours in the above two scenarios. How many more of such risks do you take?
Supposing you regularly wash your hands with soap, should it bother you that other people don’t have hygienic hand-washing habits? Yes, it should because the paths of poorly-behaved hand-washers precariously cross the paths of the well-behaved – regularly. For instance, we buy and eat bread. What is the hygienic condition of the hands that package bread into thin plastic bags for sale? We shake hands too; a lot. By that, we share our germs frequently, all in the name of culture without pausing to wonder where and/or what those hands have just been and/or done.
Today is the first Global Hand-Washing Day. The day is set aside to focus global and local attention on hand-washing with soap as an important hygienic practice and the most cost-effective health intervention. This special day is also aimed at inspiring individual commitment to the habit of washing hands with soap – all the time. Awareness is not enough; actually making hand-washing with soap a second-nature practice is what can result in preventing diseases, and even save lives.
The same hands with which we touch to express love and show gratitude can, if not kept clean, become vehicles for transmitting diseases to the very people we love, and even to strangers. From the cradle to the grave, our hands can become contaminated with germs through the simple acts of living – sneezing, coughing, nose-picking, drooling, hand-shaking, hugging, urinating and eating, as well as touching bodily fluids and other fluids on surfaces (walls, railings, clothes and skin). Our hands – between fingers, in palms and under fingernails – are potential rental spaces for germs to survive and thrive, waiting to enter the mouth to make us ill.
Twenty-five percent of Ghanaian children under age five die of diarrhoea, a preventable hygiene-related disease. Before the fifth birthday, before experiencing the joy of entering class one, a child dies – its life robbed. If the dead child could answer for itself, it would say that it was killed by germs. Such tragedies are avoidable, for the most part, by an unapologetic habit of properly washing hands with soap and water.
Results from a 2003 consumer study by Research International provide disturbing statistics about our hand-washing behaviours. While hand-washing was found to be common, the study did not find hand-washing with soap as an entrenched practice in the population studied. Examining risk behaviours of women with children, the study also found that only 2.7% of respondents wash their hands with soap after defecation. As large as 32% of respondents merely washed their hands with water only. Similarly, only two percent of mothers washed their hands with soap after cleaning a child while 22% merely washed hands with only water.
One respondent in the study put it matter-of-factly saying, “I remember when I was a child, they kept telling me to wash my hands with water but they never mentioned soap.” This statement probably suggests that the practice of using soap as a necessary ingredient in hand-washing might not be adequately emphasized in this society; not as much as using soap for bathing and washing clothes.
By character, water does not have an inbuilt quality to clean effectively. Soap aids the cleaning process by loosening and breaking up dirt. Adding rubbing of hands in the cleaning process further agitates and quickens the removal of dirt. Using hot or warm water hastens further, the dissolution of grease and dirt.
In explaining the importance of hand-washing with soap, a Principal Pharmacist with the Ghana Health Service, Mrs. Angelina Larbi of the Mamprobi Polyclinic, offered this instructive example. In laboratory testing of the presence of organisms on hands – not washed, washed with water, washed with soap, and washed with disinfectants – she maintains that hands not washed have the most infectious organisms (e.g. bacteria, fungi) but “hands washed with soap and/or disinfectants show the least organisms.”
It is easy for infectious bacteria to be transferred from person to person. With such knowledge as a backdrop, it is worrying that facilities for hand-washing with soap are not readily available in most public spaces. The 2003 Research International study quoted above found that 68% of the population use latrines that lack hand-washing facilities. Even today, a visit to toilets of so-called reputable organizations (banks, ministries, universities) reveal the shocking reality of the absence of soap, water and paper towels to wipe hands. Even more disturbing is that schools are still being built without toilet facilities, let alone providing water and soap for hand-washing. Meanwhile, hygiene-related diseases top the diseases reported at our health centres; estimated to be as high as 80%.
Yet, Ghana was a pace-setter, the first developing country where a global hand-washing initiative began. Among African countries, Ghana also presents a posture of doing well in the provision of rural water. Advertisements from a successful nation-wide hand-washing campaign a few years ago won awards of excellence. But like other good ideas and programmes which are began and stopped unceremoniously, the hand-washing campaign was not sustained to concretize its behavioural change impact.
Hand-washing with soap is a good thing because germs fear the combination of soap and water. Such information should therefore be kept in the national consciousness all the time, not in a start-and-stop fashion. Unfortunately, like too many initiatives in our national life, hand-washing campaigns are funded by ‘development partners.’ This is not sustainable.
As corporate social responsibility initiatives, large, medium and small-scale businesses throughout the country could adopt educational institutions and sponsor periodic information dissemination on campuses about hand-washing with soap. Additionally, sponsoring organizations could provide soap dispensers and hand-drying machines in student bathrooms. In the absence of any corporate entity in the community taking on this important responsibility, Parent Teacher Associations could step in.
We do not however, have to go high-tech and fanciful about providing soap and water for hand-washing. In our peculiar circumstances, water does not always flow through taps. Providing buckets of water, cups and soap might be good enough.
As we promote the school feeding programme, hand-washing with soap should be woven into the plans. It is worth it, whatever the cost. The human cost of not incorporating it is higher.
While corporate entities do this for schools, they must themselves set good examples by providing water, soap and hygienic hand-dryers in their own corporate toilets. This should be considered a necessary part of doing business.
On the individual level, as we make hand-washing with soap second-nature, we should resolve never to touch towels hanging in public toilets even when they look clean. Those towels are germ-infected and dangerous. The same can be said about dirty handkerchiefs left stuck in pockets and handbags that are pulled out to wipe hands after a hygienic hand wash with soap and water.
Supposing you regularly wash your hands with soap, should it bother you that other people don’t have hygienic hand-washing habits? Yes, it should because the paths of poorly-behaved hand-washers precariously cross the paths of the well-behaved – regularly. For instance, we buy and eat bread. What is the hygienic condition of the hands that package bread into thin plastic bags for sale? We shake hands too; a lot. By that, we share our germs frequently, all in the name of culture without pausing to wonder where and/or what those hands have just been and/or done.
Today is the first Global Hand-Washing Day. The day is set aside to focus global and local attention on hand-washing with soap as an important hygienic practice and the most cost-effective health intervention. This special day is also aimed at inspiring individual commitment to the habit of washing hands with soap – all the time. Awareness is not enough; actually making hand-washing with soap a second-nature practice is what can result in preventing diseases, and even save lives.
The same hands with which we touch to express love and show gratitude can, if not kept clean, become vehicles for transmitting diseases to the very people we love, and even to strangers. From the cradle to the grave, our hands can become contaminated with germs through the simple acts of living – sneezing, coughing, nose-picking, drooling, hand-shaking, hugging, urinating and eating, as well as touching bodily fluids and other fluids on surfaces (walls, railings, clothes and skin). Our hands – between fingers, in palms and under fingernails – are potential rental spaces for germs to survive and thrive, waiting to enter the mouth to make us ill.
Twenty-five percent of Ghanaian children under age five die of diarrhoea, a preventable hygiene-related disease. Before the fifth birthday, before experiencing the joy of entering class one, a child dies – its life robbed. If the dead child could answer for itself, it would say that it was killed by germs. Such tragedies are avoidable, for the most part, by an unapologetic habit of properly washing hands with soap and water.
Results from a 2003 consumer study by Research International provide disturbing statistics about our hand-washing behaviours. While hand-washing was found to be common, the study did not find hand-washing with soap as an entrenched practice in the population studied. Examining risk behaviours of women with children, the study also found that only 2.7% of respondents wash their hands with soap after defecation. As large as 32% of respondents merely washed their hands with water only. Similarly, only two percent of mothers washed their hands with soap after cleaning a child while 22% merely washed hands with only water.
One respondent in the study put it matter-of-factly saying, “I remember when I was a child, they kept telling me to wash my hands with water but they never mentioned soap.” This statement probably suggests that the practice of using soap as a necessary ingredient in hand-washing might not be adequately emphasized in this society; not as much as using soap for bathing and washing clothes.
By character, water does not have an inbuilt quality to clean effectively. Soap aids the cleaning process by loosening and breaking up dirt. Adding rubbing of hands in the cleaning process further agitates and quickens the removal of dirt. Using hot or warm water hastens further, the dissolution of grease and dirt.
In explaining the importance of hand-washing with soap, a Principal Pharmacist with the Ghana Health Service, Mrs. Angelina Larbi of the Mamprobi Polyclinic, offered this instructive example. In laboratory testing of the presence of organisms on hands – not washed, washed with water, washed with soap, and washed with disinfectants – she maintains that hands not washed have the most infectious organisms (e.g. bacteria, fungi) but “hands washed with soap and/or disinfectants show the least organisms.”
It is easy for infectious bacteria to be transferred from person to person. With such knowledge as a backdrop, it is worrying that facilities for hand-washing with soap are not readily available in most public spaces. The 2003 Research International study quoted above found that 68% of the population use latrines that lack hand-washing facilities. Even today, a visit to toilets of so-called reputable organizations (banks, ministries, universities) reveal the shocking reality of the absence of soap, water and paper towels to wipe hands. Even more disturbing is that schools are still being built without toilet facilities, let alone providing water and soap for hand-washing. Meanwhile, hygiene-related diseases top the diseases reported at our health centres; estimated to be as high as 80%.
Yet, Ghana was a pace-setter, the first developing country where a global hand-washing initiative began. Among African countries, Ghana also presents a posture of doing well in the provision of rural water. Advertisements from a successful nation-wide hand-washing campaign a few years ago won awards of excellence. But like other good ideas and programmes which are began and stopped unceremoniously, the hand-washing campaign was not sustained to concretize its behavioural change impact.
Hand-washing with soap is a good thing because germs fear the combination of soap and water. Such information should therefore be kept in the national consciousness all the time, not in a start-and-stop fashion. Unfortunately, like too many initiatives in our national life, hand-washing campaigns are funded by ‘development partners.’ This is not sustainable.
As corporate social responsibility initiatives, large, medium and small-scale businesses throughout the country could adopt educational institutions and sponsor periodic information dissemination on campuses about hand-washing with soap. Additionally, sponsoring organizations could provide soap dispensers and hand-drying machines in student bathrooms. In the absence of any corporate entity in the community taking on this important responsibility, Parent Teacher Associations could step in.
We do not however, have to go high-tech and fanciful about providing soap and water for hand-washing. In our peculiar circumstances, water does not always flow through taps. Providing buckets of water, cups and soap might be good enough.
As we promote the school feeding programme, hand-washing with soap should be woven into the plans. It is worth it, whatever the cost. The human cost of not incorporating it is higher.
While corporate entities do this for schools, they must themselves set good examples by providing water, soap and hygienic hand-dryers in their own corporate toilets. This should be considered a necessary part of doing business.
On the individual level, as we make hand-washing with soap second-nature, we should resolve never to touch towels hanging in public toilets even when they look clean. Those towels are germ-infected and dangerous. The same can be said about dirty handkerchiefs left stuck in pockets and handbags that are pulled out to wipe hands after a hygienic hand wash with soap and water.
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